Wistful Satisfaction
by SlvrSoleAlchmst1
Summary: [SHOUNEN AI: Sora x Sunao] Yoru and Ran want more time together. The only way to achieve that is to get Sora and Sunao to want each other too. Yoru seduces Sunao in an attempt to make Sunao want Sora's body, then Ran takes a shot with Sora...
1. Sunao and Yoru

_A/N: (A fanfic has just been unceremoniously tossed at you.) Here, have some almost-plotless Sukisho action. Heh heh heh._

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Sunao opened his eyes, blinking in the inky black of the dorm room that he shared with Sora. At once he groaned and shifted in annoyance. He shouldn't have allowed his sleep to be interrupted, though he wasn't sure just what was at fault. Matsuri had kept them up late again, sending he and Sora shuffling back and forth in the name of the school Do-It-All team.

His covers were disheveled, but they were soft and warm, and he had no desire to move. With another irritated grumble that this time he did not bother to muffle, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was then that he noticed that the figure in the adjacent bed was sitting up as well.

"Hashiba," Sunao croaked at Sora, finding his tired voice with difficulty, "What are you doing?" He yawned, and it wasn't until he managed to close his mouth again that he realized Sora had not moved.

"If you're not doing anything constructive, go to sleep, Hashiba." With that, Sunao collapsed back onto his pillow and rolled over.

He had barely closed his eyes when he felt the edge of his bed sink with the weight of another body.

"Hashiba," Sunao gritted through his teeth. "Get off my bed."

"That's not very nice, Fujimori," came the low response. "Aren't you even going to ask me if something's wrong and why I'm still awake?"

Sunao snapped his eyes open and bolted upright, drawing away from the speaker in one fluid motion as a glare of hatred plastered itself onto his face.

"Yoru."

"That's right."

Sunao cursed himself. He should have known. Sora slept like a rock and would not have been awake in the first place. And that deep, dangerous voice belonged to Yoru.

"If you're looking for Ran," Sunao replied dryly, "He's not coming out tonight."

Yoru smirked triumphantly and leaned in until their faces were nearly touching. "I'm not looking for Ran. My intention was to talk with you."

Sunao couldn't help it. He blushed.

"Apparently you have no objections," Yoru observed when Sunao failed to answer.

Sunao bit his lip and fought to steady his breathing. This was not what he needed right now. He didn't need to have Sora's body so close to him, on his bed, in the darkness of their room. When Yoru leaned forward and caught his lips, he didn't need to feel Sora's mouth on his. And he didn't need to feel the automatic response within himself as his body heated and began to react eagerly. It was not Sora at all. But it was Sora's body, Sora's delicious lips, and Sora's deep eyes that stared into Sunao's when Yoru released him and waited for a response. That was precisely why it was so wrong.

Sunao shoved Yoru away, trembling with rage. "Don't do that again," he warned, his voice quaking.

"Why not?" Yoru asked. "You can't resist Sora's body, can you?"

"I-I hate Hashiba," was all Sunao could stammer, fuming. Sora was the reason that so many things in his life had gone wrong. Sora had betrayed him. Sunao felt Yoru watching him, and he tried to keep his face passive.

"Would it kill you to go easier on Sora?" Yoru didn't argue when Sunao left the bed in a huff, but he waited for an answer.

"Why should I go easy on him?" Sunao demanded. "That guy is such a stupid, childish…" He trailed off.

"It hurts to finish that sentence, doesn't it?" Yoru was smug now. "You know it's laced with lies. You don't really believe that about Sora at all, do you?"

Sunao felt the fight drain out of him. He gripped the edge of his dresser and refused to turn around. There was no way he was facing Yoru. Why couldn't he have kept on sleeping? Then a thought struck him.

"Why are you defending Hashiba?" Sunao asked warily, pivoting to absorb the amused look on Yoru's face.

"I thought you'd never ask." Yoru stood, crossing the space between them in mere seconds. "Because if you and Sora could get along, Ran and I might have more time together too."

Sunao struggled to escape from the space Yoru had cleverly enclosed him in, but there was nowhere for him to go. He'd have to buy time with his words.

"So what, then," he shot vehemently, "You're going to try to seduce me with Sora's body? Then I won't be able to resist Hashiba anymore, and you think we'll strike up a relationship?" The thought made him sick.

"You're really very perceptive, considering you seem so pigheaded at first glance."

Sunao froze. Was Yoru telling him that his guess was right?

Yoru chuckled. "Figure it out yet?" And then he was reaching for Sunao's wrists.

"R-Ran will hate you for this," Sunao gasped, as Yoru twisted him away from the wall and led him back to the rumpled bed.

"Ran already agreed that it was necessary in the long run. For us to have more time together, you and Sora have to like each other. So you were right when you said it earlier. Ran won't be coming out tonight to interfere." The grin was almost sinister, and it grew more lustful as Yoru laid Sunao onto the bed, holding him down with the weight of his body.

Sunao found to his horror that he was no longer really resisting. He gasped aloud when Yoru pressed down on his hips. Then he ran one thigh between Sunao's legs, and it created a friction that made his whole body weak.

"H-How can you do this?" Sunao snarled, hoping he could at least resist with his words if his body refused to cooperate. "If you really love Ran, how can you—"

"Your body is his," Yoru interrupted. "And while it's not as pleasant as it would be with Ran, it's simple enough logic."

Yoru paused, and Sunao assumed it was to gauge his reaction. But the male above him looked contemplative, and finally Yoru spoke again.

"This isn't supposed to be a punishment," Yoru said. "I'm inside Sora's body. You should enjoy it."

Sunao burst into wry laughter, fitfully struggling against Yoru's strong arms. "I'm not like you." Then Yoru gave him a look that said his patience had ebbed.

"Then that's just too bad, isn't it?"

Sunao's breathing hitched dangerously when Yoru planted a steaming kiss on the side of his neck. He felt a guilty pleasure rocket through him and settle in his loins, and when Yoru shifted above him to heighten the contact between them, the pleasure only grew. Now Yoru was sucking at his throat, leaving blooming red spots all over his neck. Sunao felt the throb of desire overtake him. He didn't want to. He had no interest in Yoru, and he hated Hashiba. But Sora's body… That tightly muscled abdomen that he could feel through Sora's shirt, those enticing fingers that slipped over his skin and made him ache, and that reckless, messy hair that brushed Sunao's cheek as Yoru moved to lick his earlobe. His lust for Sora's delightful body was uncontrollable now. He knew it was too late to stop himself. Yoru knew it too.

The least he could do, Sunao decided, was try not to encourage Yoru too much. When firm, commanding lips met his, when Sunao felt Yoru caressing the inside of his mouth with Sora's tongue, he didn't respond.

"That was for you, Hashiba," he muttered desperately when the action had finally ceased.

Yoru let out a low chuckle. "Hmm. You're going to make me do all the work?"

"I'm not going to have Hashiba getting on my case for this later." The moment the words were out of his mouth, he hissed. Yoru's skilled hands were stroking his hardened member, and the pressure building there was too much. But Sunao would not beg for release, no matter how he yearned for satisfaction. He'd been seduced despite himself, yes, but that didn't mean he would allow himself to be defeated.

But thoughts like that disappeared when Yoru took him between the legs with his mouth.

Sunao writhed at the sticky sensation. He arched his back as Yoru came down on him, clenched his jaw at the jolt of longing it caused when Yoru cheekily decided to add teeth for two successive strokes. He fisted the bed sheets until he lost feeling in his fingers, but he didn't care. He was being swallowed up inside Sora's mouth, where it was hot and wet and too appetizing for words. He needed more.

"H-Hashiba…"

Yoru broke off long enough to grin and drop a reality check. "This isn't Hashiba, Fujimori. Or did you forget?"

Sunao felt the dread assault him. His face colored, and he knew at once he'd said the wrong thing in his elated fog.

"Looks like it really is Sora you want after all," Yoru noted, amused. "See? With Sora's body pleasuring you like this, does it really matter that it's actually me?"

Sunao didn't answer. He hoped that wherever Sora's mind was, it wasn't in a conscious realm where he could witness what was happening between he and Yoru.

Yoru seemed to read his thoughts. "Sora can't hear you. I'm sure he has a fairly good idea about what's going on, though."

Sunao was overflowing with unsatisfied lust. He fisted both hands in Sora's hair. Or was it Yoru's?

"J-Just don't stop."

But Yoru was through with whatever magic he'd been working with his mouth. He pulled Sunao roughly to a sitting position and melded their lips together. This time, Sunao responded. Sora's lips were commanding, enticing, fiery and icy all at once. Sunao gave in; he folded like a deck of cards, he let the spasms of desire assault him. Yoru gnawed teasingly on his lower lip, slid his tongue in and out of Sunao's mouth, and finally released him for a breath of air. Then Yoru shifted to behind Sunao and whispered his words raspy and low.

"Lean into me," he ordered, and Sunao nearly collapsed in his haste to follow directions.

Now Sunao was on his knees, with Yoru hugging him from the back. Yoru wrapped one arm around Sunao's waist to hold him up and kissed the back of his neck. At the same time, Yoru's free hand slid back down Sunao's navel and found his erected member. Sunao let out a low moan of pleasure at the feeling of Sora's hand clutching him tight. He absolutely could not maintain his control. He couldn't take it – it all felt so _good_. Yoru gripped him harder, squeezed in all the right places, rubbed and stroked and drove him mad. Sunao was nearly on the brink.

Another series of sighs and moans escaped him as he rocked to the rhythm of Yoru's motions. His hands needed something to hold on to. He raised them above and behind his head – found the back of Yoru's neck and pulled him in sideways for a very sloppy kiss. Still Yoru was unrelenting in his smooth pattern. Suddenly Sunao felt the pace quicken, the pressure increase, and he began to hit the breaking point. Sora's hands were sinful and satisfying.

Sunao was slick with sweat. He cut their kiss short and released a loud, wanton cry. His hands found Sora's thighs, and Yoru pressed against him in response. Sunao was going to burst. This felt too incredible to be real.

One last satisfied cry and Sunao came. He opened his eyes, which had been squinted shut in ecstasy, in time to see Yoru lift his coated fingers to his mouth and lick them clean one by one in a manner that nearly made Sunao ache for it all over again.

"How was that?" Yoru asked. Sunao could tell the question was rhetorical.

"I-I want to see Hashiba," he managed to choke out in the aftermath.

Yoru laughed at him. "Why?"

"I want to tell him not to get cocky after this."

Yoru didn't reply. Sunao put a hand against Yoru's chest and shoved him hard. Yoru fell off the bed with a thump and rubbed his head.

"Fujimori? What the hell was that for?"

Sunao blinked. Then he nearly keeled over. "H-Hashiba!"

"Why am I out of bed? Damn. Matsuri had us out so late… I need some sleep. What's the big idea?"

Sunao let him ramble on. He hoped Sora didn't notice the way the sheets were such a wreck, or the heavy flush that still graced his cheeks from his encounter with Yoru. But the other male seemed clueless. Sunao heaved an internal sigh of relief. Perhaps Sora was simply too tired to realize what had occurred. But Sunao was sure he would in the morning.

"Go to sleep, Hashiba," Sunao commanded. He laid down himself and tried hard not to worry about what repercussions would arise from his actions the next morning. He cursed his susceptible body. Luckily, Sora obeyed him, and with one last sigh, Sunao closed his eyes and went to sleep.

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_A/N: This is coming in three parts, so stay tuned. Next is Ran working his magic on Sora, and if everything works out, Sunao and Sora will get together in the last chapter._

_Man, even when writing slash I always try to give the story substance. But I have to admit - just cutting to the chase sometimes is more amusing. :P_


	2. Sora and Ran

_A/N: I posted this quickly and only read it over once. Apologies ahead of time for any blaring mistakes. And any little ones, too, of course. _

"I told you already, Hashiba, there's no way I would do something like that!"

"But I remember now! When I woke up you were—"

"My covers were too warm, that's all."

"Fujimori…"

"Just get to class or you'll be late!"

The door slammed, and Sora grimaced as the frame shook from the impact. He whirled with gritted teeth and rummaged through his dresser drawers.

"Fishy, Fujimori," Sora muttered darkly to himself, "Trying to play it off like his covers were too warm, but I saw him just before that after Yoru…" His fingers froze over a pair of striped socks and the hair on the back of his neck quivered when he felt the presence of someone at his back. Karma must have hated him.

With a guilty look of apology, Sora pivoted. Sunao stood with his arms folded, staring him down with a look of murder on his delicate features. Apparently, he'd turned right back around and re-entered the room in the midst of Sora's one-man rant. Sora wondered what the boy had forgotten, but then he forced himself to focus.

They exchanged suspicious glances. Sunao hadn't spoken a word yet, and the silence was becoming too much to endure. Sora scratched the back of his neck and let out an uncomfortable laugh.

"Eh heh, I didn't mean it, Fujimori. I believe you about last night, really."

But to Sora's surprise, the other male paid no attention to his defense. Sunao paced to the window, a mocking ring to his tone as he spoke in a pitch slightly higher than normal.

"Fujimori, Fujimori," came the words tartly, "You're so stupid, always talking about Fujimori but then denying all your feelings. You make Yoru and I do all the work."

Sora's eyes flew wide at the initial shock, but his look quickly transformed into a wince. "Ran."

"Yes, _Ran_." But Ran didn't seem to be addressing Sora as much as speaking smugly to the air beside him. "You're a big, annoying lug, but I guess I'll have to do it if I want to see Yoru more often." Finally, the irritated boy scanned him with a critical twist of one eyebrow. Ran was studying Sora like the blue-head was a science project.

Sora blinked. "See Yoru?"

Ran launched himself forward, and Sora took a wavering step backward to shield himself.

"Yes, see Yoru! Do I have to spell it out for you? You have to want Sunao! Everyone gets it but you. 'Nao, 'Nao, 'Nao! Do you understand yet?"

Ran's hands were on his hips and he was glaring fiercely. Sora backed away slowly, shuffling his way around the fuming Ran and tip toeing in reverse to the door, palms out as if to make peace. Ran's eyes followed his every movement, and Sora felt a flush creep up to his cheeks in his discomfort. But his hand was finally on the doorknob, and he turned it slowly. He had to get to class; Matsuri would assign him extra work if he skipped out and had to borrow the blonde boy's notes again…

Ran rocketed forward like a bullet train and caught the door just as Sora had begun to inch it open. Sora gulped. Ran's eyes narrowed mischievously as he held the door closed and slithered closer. Their bodies were touchig. Sora's heart was beating too fast.

"You're staying here," Ran said.

Before he could think, Sora allowed himself to whine. "I can't miss class again! Matsuri will kill me, not to mention my teachers…" He averted his eyes from the figure that writhed against him impatiently.

"Class, or this body?" As if to solidify the statement, Ran rubbed his cheek against Sora's shoulder and ran his palms eagerly across Sora's chest.

Sora fled the doorway and flung himself onto his bed, where he snatched his pillow and brandished it like a weapon. "No way. I don't even like you!"

Ran had his arms folded. "But you like Sunao." Sora didn't answer, and a light of some epiphany made Ran wriggle in glee. "You have cold feet."

This time, Sora flung the pillow at his opponent. Ran sidestepped the projectile with ease and strode to the bedside where Sora perched, mortified.

Sora struggled backward, but the head of his bed proved to be quite the barrier; he could retreat no farther. Ran was on the opposite end of the mattress, crawling coyly toward him with a look that said he was doomed.

"I'll let you have Sunao's body. Then you'll finally know what it feels like. Why don't you take those pants off? You can let me do everything."

The mouth of the cornered boy dropped open. "Just a second ago you were _complaining_ that you had to do everything," Sora grumbled when he'd regained some semblance of thought. He refused to heed the request he'd been given.

So Ran did it for him.

Sora let out a yelp as his pants were quickly unzipped, yanked off, and tossed aside, onto the floor from whence they'd came that morning when he'd realized he had no clean clothes. Sora watched them flutter down like a banner. He really should do his laundry, but—

But Ran was pushing him down onto the sheets and unclothing himself, right in front of Sora's eyes as daylight streamed through their open blinds.

"C-Cut that out!" Sora ordered, diving for Sunao's discarded shirt. Ran simply wriggled free of his last clothing item and inched forward. Sunao's body was sleek, pale… and completely, utterly visible. Sora's mouth clamped shut and he choked on his protests. He knew he was flushing red to his core. He didn't want to stare – didn't _dare_ – and yet he was devouring the sight of that body.

Ran watched him with hawk-like intensity. Sora caught the smaller boy looking down.

"That's what I thought," Ran observed in approval, and it was then that Sora followed his gaze to glance downward at himself. He bit his lip to keep from moaning in agony and embarrassment. He desperately ached for what had been placed before him. And once he acknowledged the lust that brewed within him, it inevitably consumed him.

Sora's voice came out a whisper. "Fujimo—"

"No, it's _Ran_," Sunao's alter ego corrected automatically. "You really are dumber than I thought. But memorize this. Memorize _me_, because my body is Sunao's and you can have this all the time if you listen to Yoru and I."

Sora's throat was suddenly dry. He didn't want to hear any more talk. "Then… Ran," he corrected, "I—" A slender finger rose to hover over his lips and quiet him. Ran positioned himself above Sora's hips, while Sora groaned and shut his eyes with the pleasure of the heat.

"No, open them," Ran commanded. "Watch me. Watch this body that you want so badly."

Sora let out a low breath that ached with every second it took to leave him. He slit his eyes open, unable to keep his lashes from flickering as Ran slid forward and backward against him, causing them to rub against each other. Ran's length pressed against his, and then Ran lurched and rotated his hips, grinding them together hard and fast. Sora cinched his eyes shut and twisted his head to one side, biting the inside of his lower lip to muffle the sound that rose in the back of his throat.

"Sora?" There was amusement in Ran's tone. "Do you like this?"

"Wh-what does it matter?" Sora fought, as another shift sent his head snapping backward and his chest heaving with his rapid exhales. "Fujimori would never want to do this."

Ran shook his head. "Sunao was calling out _your_ name last night."

Sora sought control, but it fled him when he felt Ran slip his thumb over the head of his long, aching member. And the thought of Sunao, Sunao calling out his name in the heat of passion, writhing in pleasure against the sheets… The image took him dangerously close to the brink. "There's no way Fujimori would do that," Sora forced out, bucking to throw the smaller boy off. But his limbs turned to jelly at the feeling pooling in deep in his groin, and he found he couldn't stir.

Ran was losing his patience. "Well, you're wrong. And anyway, it's _me_ here now and I want something to happen soon! This is no fun without Yoru."

The blue-head snorted. "Then call to Yoru and let him take my place."

A frown. "No. Then the plan won't work."

"It won't work anyway."

"It will!" Ran pulled away suddenly, straightening like a lightning rod, and Sora almost cried out at the sudden loss of contact. The smaller boy changed his position just slightly, hovering over Sora's hips with a sly smirk on his face.

"Do you want to go inside me?" Ran asked, drawing out the agonizing lull of action until Sora was forced to seize Sunao's hips and tug Ran back down.

"Yes," Sora exhaled. He was dying of ecstasy.

Ran allowed Sora to thrust upward and encase his length in Sunao's tightly clenched entry point. Sora groaned again, long and wanton and laden with lust the likes of which he'd never dared let himself experience. If this was the power of Sunao's tantalizing body, if this was what he would feel when they were to finally—

"Don't stop," Ran gasped, his voice shaky. Sora looked up.

Ran's face was flushed, delicately tinted rose from his cheeks to his ears, and his head was thrown back. His eyes were hooded with Sunao's long, elegant lashes. Ran licked his lips and his breathing steadied, but something appeared to click inside him as Sora observed, and at once it was Ran who was urgent and bursting with yearning.

"You feel so good. I don't care if you _are_ Sora and not Yoru right now. Stop making me wait!"

Sora loosened his grip on Ran's hips, releasing some of the pressure and allowing the smaller boy to move. Ran pulled up and Sora pulled out, and they collided again with reckless abandon.

"Yoru will be angry with you," Sora strained, letting Ran ride him from above and drinking in the smaller male's fluid, feminine movements. He felt his member swell further when his longing reached a peak. Ran didn't answer, absorbed as he was in his task. His small hands came down and he pumped himself, still keeping up the delicious routine of burying Sora inside of him at even intervals. Sora let his grip leave the curve of Sunao's hips and roam lower.

Ran panted quietly, and sweat beaded against his pale skin like jeweled droplets. He cried out at last, throwing back his head and trembling with satisfaction. Sora followed, the sensation swallowing him until he nearly lost consciousness from the crashing culmination of their desires. To his dismay Ran sagged forward to rest atop of him, spent. On instinct, Sora reached upward to tangle his fingers in Sunao's hair and pull the boy in to rest on his shoulder. But it was Ran who had given him such pleasure, not Sunao. And Ran was not the one that Sora wanted.

"Ran," Sora said, his voice tender despite himself. "You can't fall asleep here. What if Fujimori wakes up and has a heart attack when he realizes what happened? I'll be dead."

Ran muttered something incoherent and cozied in closer. Sora heaved a sigh and sat up carefully. Then he carried the other boy to the bed opposite his and laid him down.

When he'd accomplished the deed, Sora brought his hand roughly to his forehead. "Matsuri is going to kill me for missing class."

_A/N: Is it me, or was that ending a bit rushed? Ah well, I'll make up for it in the last chapter. X3_


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